


Looking Straight Ahead

by snarky_saxophonist



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 08:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15139250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarky_saxophonist/pseuds/snarky_saxophonist
Summary: Willy loves his boyfriends, he really does, but he could do with them being a little less overprotective. Kyle and Javy, however, aren't as much in favor of that, especially after having to watch Willy get run over at the plate.





	Looking Straight Ahead

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure there is exactly one person other than me with any interest whatsoever in this ship, but oh well. If I want to write fluffy fic about Kyle, Willy, and Javy dating, I'm going to write fluffy fic about it.
> 
> If you or anyone you know personally is tagged in this, please close out of this now. This is intended to be a work of fiction, not to represent any real world feelings or events.
> 
> Also: universe, please don't punish me for this by having anyone run Willy over at the plate.

“You guys can stop fucking carrying me,” Willy snaps to Javy and Kyle, who both have an arm around him as they make their way up the stairs like some three bodied monster. “I can walk on my own.”

“Well,” Kyle says patiently, and neither of them move to let go of him, “my degree from Dartmouth isn’t in language, I’ll admit that, but the trainer said to keep weight off your knee, and I kind of think that means not to walk on it too much.”

“And you kept nearly falling when you were walking on your own,” Javy adds. Willy has to resist the urge to bang his already aching head into the wall in frustration. He loves his boyfriends, he really does, but he could do with them being a little less overprotective. 

“So just let us help you out, okay? The next time one of us gets run over at the plate, you can do the same,” Kyle says, and Willy can’t help but huff out a laugh at that.

“You’re not a catcher. I’m the only one of us who’s going to be getting run over,” he points out.

“Hey, it’s possible. If a pitch gets by you and I go to tag the runner I could get run over, and then you can mollycoddle me all you want,” Kyle says. “Fair?”

“No,” Willson mutters grumpily, but he relents and lets Kyle and Javy help him. His knee really does hurt, so he might as well take the help while it’s offered.

“Next time someone takes me out at second you can annoy me into feeling better,” Javy offers as well.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” Willy replies. He doesn’t envy Kyle, having to watch from the bench most of the time while he and Javy are out on the field. 

Kyle’s thoughts must be on a similar track, because his laugh is a little bit off. “Yeah, I’m in agreement with Willy on that one. My preference would be both of you staying healthy all the time.”

“Sounds nice,” Willy mutters, more than a little bitter. The trainer had said they’d wait and see how things felt over the next day or two before deciding on if he needed a DL stint, but the fact that it’s a possibility for a second season in a row is not what Willson wants. He just wants to be able to go out and catch every day.

“If other players decided to actually slide at the plate instead of going for the tackle instead, maybe it’d be easier,” Kyle mutters darkly. Willy looks over at him in surprise as Kyle fishes the key to their apartment out of his pocket, because he’s not used to seeing Kyle actually upset. Over the years, Willy – and Javy, of course – have learned the subtle tells for when Kyle’s not happy, but for him to be this visibly upset… Willy didn’t think the slide was that bad, although he might’ve been distracted by the pain resulting from the collision.

“We’re not playing American football, we’re supposed to be playing baseball,” Javy agrees, and Willy supposes that means it actually was a bad slide. As an infielder who gets taken out a fair amount, Javy agrees with Willy on a little more old-school type slides. Kyle, on the other hand, is a big fan of the new slide and collision rules. Probably because he has to watch his teammates potentially get hurt from the bench and from the mound. And Willson understands the rules, and he totally gets why they’re there, but he also grew up playing baseball a little harder than the Americans. Everyone played a little more recklessly, and that type of playing etched itself into the nature of baseball for most of them.

But tonight especially, aching all over and being half-carried by his boyfriends across the apartment with a loudly meowing cat circling them, Willy definitely sees the appeal. Being on the receiving end of a home plate collision is not fun.

“How about we debate the merits of the sliding versus tackling tomorrow, because I think Willy here is going to fall asleep standing up if we don’t get him in a bed soon,” Kyle suggests, dropping their bags in the hall. If Willy hadn’t been propelled forward by Kyle and Javy, he would’ve stopped in shock, because Kyle never leaves stuff lying out. He’s the biggest neat freak Willy’s ever met, and that includes Jon Lester and his tendencies that border on obsessive. Max even meows in surprise, going over to sniff at the bags suspiciously.

“’M not that tired,” Willy protests as he’s all but deposited on their bed. Kyle immediately leaves the room, while Javy drops a kiss on his head and goes over to the dresser to grab a pair of sweatpants for Willy. Not really paying attention to his actions, Willy fumbles the catch when Javy tosses the sweatpants at him, which of course is when Kyle returns, holding several ice packs.

“Are you that dizzy? Or is your depth perception off?” he asks, crossing the room immediately to Willson’s side. Javy’s also hovering way too close, and Willy wasn’t dizzy, he just wasn’t paying attention, so he opens his mouth to tell Kyle that, and instead starts crying. Both of his boyfriends look as taken aback as Willy feels, and Willy’s not sure why he shoves Javy away when he reaches out to put an arm around Willy. Max does his part to make things worse by yowling unhappily at them, jumping up on the bed next to Willy and headbutting him in the thigh.

“Can you leave me alone for five minutes and stop hovering?” Willy snaps, wincing when his own raised voice makes his head hurt and glaring fiercely when Kyle looks like he wants to say something about his visible show of pain. “I don’t have a concussion, I have just a headache. And you two aren’t helping!”

Javy takes a deep breath and steps away from the bed, turning to face the wall and not looking at Willson. Kyle just sits down on the bed next to him, not touching Willson, but close enough that Willy kind of wants to reach out to him.

“The trainer said that you weren’t showing most symptoms of a concussion, but that they could still show up,” Kyle reminds him patiently. Willy wishes he had Kyle’s manner of explaining things without coming across as condescending and belittling. He thinks, in another life, that Kyle really would’ve made a great professor. “We’re just concerned. So you’re not feeling dizzy or anything?”

“No,” Willy says, angrily wiping his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Okay. Do you want to sit and ice for a bit, or do you just want to get ready for bed?” Kyle asks.

“I’ll get ready for bed first,” Willy says, starting to haul himself up onto his good leg. Javy comes back over and offers him a hand up. Looking at him for a moment, Willy takes the peace offering for what it is and lets Javy help him. 

“Yell if you need a hand,” Kyle says mildly as Willy makes his way slowly over to the bathroom. He appreciates the bit of space, especially because he knows that he’s also terrible about hovering when he’s worried about either Kyle or Javy. He nods back at Kyle, offering him a smile that’s probably tenuous at best, but Kyle and Javy both look appeased by it.

 

By the time Willy’s back in bed, his knee is aching from just standing and walking around for ten minutes. It’s definitely going to be at least a few days before he’s ready to get behind the plate again. Just the thought of crouching right now is rather unpleasant.

“Ice?” Kyle asks, sliding into bed next to him.

“Please,” Willy says gratefully, taking the ice from Kyle and the pillow Javy offers to prop up his knee. He can’t hold back the sigh of relief as icy numbness starts to seep into the injured joint.

“Your head too, or is that enough?” Kyle asks, so Willy takes a moment to take stock of how his head actually feels.

“That’s probably a good idea,” he admits, reaching out a hand for the ice. Kyle, however, doesn’t hand it to him, instead scooting forward so he can wrap an arm around Willy and hold the ice against Willy’s head himself.

“How is that comfortable for you?” Javy asks, smiling affectionately at them as he gets into bed on Willy’s other side, dislodging Max, who protests briefly but circles around to lie down by Willy’s feet.

“I could say something really sappy here,” Kyle threatens, and Willy can practically hear his smile. “It’s not as uncomfortable as it looks, probably.”

“You don’t-“ Willy starts, but Kyle cuts him off by kissing his head.

“If you feel better tomorrow, you can tell us to stop taking care of you, okay? But let us tonight, for our sakes as much as yours,” Kyle says.

“Fine,” Willy agrees, still reluctant. He’s going to be asleep momentarily, though, so it’s not too much of a hardship for him. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Willy,” Kyle says softly. “Get some rest. We’ll be here.”

Javy’s silent, but he does lean forward to kiss Willy on the cheek, and Willy takes the silent show of affection as what it’s meant as, reaching out to pull Javy closer as well. He’s dead tired, and his body’s still aching in more places than he cares to admit, but falling asleep cocooned between the warmth of his boyfriends is enough to make the pain feel like nothing.

 

Willy’s not sure at first what wakes him up. It’s still dark out, the two other people in bed with him seem to still be asleep, and he doesn’t hear anybody talking. Then there’s a crack of thunder, loud and startling enough that Willy flinches. He immediately stills himself, hoping that he hasn’t woken his brothers and praying silently that the storm won’t leak through the roof. Or bring the whole roof down, for that matter.

“¿Estás bien? Are you okay?” the person next to him whispers, and Willy frowns in confusion for a moment before he remembers. He’s not in Venezuela, his brothers aren’t here, and it’s Javy speaking to him. He must take too long responding, because Javy pushes himself upright slightly, looking worried. “¿Te duele? Are you in pain?”

“No, no, estoy bien. No, no, I’m okay,” Willy says quickly, wanting to erase the unhappiness from Javy’s expression but trying to be quiet enough so they don’t wake Kyle. Javy doesn’t look convinced in the slightest.

“¿Estás seguro? Are you sure?” he asks, dark eyes scanning Willy’s face like he can see into his mind and tell what’s wrong. Willy’s about to respond, to reassure him again, when there’s another crack of thunder that makes him jump slightly. He can feel his cheeks flush with embarrassment at being so unnerved by a simple thunderstorm, but Javy looks relieved and sympathetic, not judgmental. “¿Los truenos? The thunder?”

“Sí,” Willy admits sheepishly. “Cuando yo era niño… When I was a child…”

“Entiendo. I understand,” Javy assures him with a small smile. Kyle’s still curled around Willy’s back, so Javy can’t pull him closer, but he puts a hand on Willy’s cheek and strokes gently. “Estamos a salvo. Pero olvido a veces, también. We’re safe. But I forget sometimes, too.” 

“What’s goin’ on?” Kyle mutters, finally shifting with a grumble. Willy’s not surprised it took him so long to wake up, considering how much Kyle abhors mornings. “Willy, you alright?”

“He’s okay,” Javy confirms. “Storm woke us up. Go back to sleep.”

“Mmm, okay,” Kyle mutters, pressing his face into Willy’s back as his breathing evens out again almost immediately. Willy feels more than hears Javy’s laugh because of how close they are, and he smiles automatically at it.

“¿Estás bien? Are you alright?” Javy asks again, and Willy find that he doesn’t mind the unnecessary concern, for once. “Tu rodilla, tu cabeza… Your knee, your head…”

“No duelen. They don’t hurt,” Willy says, then reconsiders. “La rodilla, un poco. La cabeza se sienta bien. The knee, a little. The head feels good.”

“¿Necesitas hielo? Do you need ice?” Javy asks.

“No, gracias. Necesito dormer. Y necesitas dormer también, porque hay un juego mañana. No, thank you. I need to sleep. And you need to sleep too, since there’s a game tomorrow.”

“Yo sé, yo sé. I know, I know,” Javy mutters. “Despiértame si necesitas algo, ¿sí? Wake me up if you need something, okay?”

“Le despertaré. I’ll wake you.” Willy says, taking Javy’s hand from his cheek and kissing it lightly. “Te amo. I love you.”

“Yo también. Me too,” Javy whispers back, eyes sliding shut. Willy allows himself to follow suit, relaxing into his and Kyle’s embraces instead of cringing at the next crack of thunder.

 

Willy next wakes to quiet voices around him. He reaches out instinctively for Javy, and when he touches only empty air in front of him, reluctantly opens his eyes to look around.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you,” Kyle says, coming over from where he’d been buttoning his shirt to sit on the bed next to him. “How are you feeling?”

Willy stretches languidly, taking stock of his body. His head is aching a little, as is his knee, but he feels a lot better than he’d expected. Of course, that could all fly out the window when he tries to get up and walk around, but he’ll take it for the moment.

“Better,” he says, drawing a smile from Kyle.

“We were going to let you sleep in a bit and bring you breakfast in bed, but you’re just too light of a sleeper,” Kyle says. “You can go back to sleep for a little bit, if you want.”

“I’m up now,” Willy says with a shrug, sitting up slowly in case his head protests the movement. It doesn’t, thankfully, so he gets out of bed, all too aware of Kyle hovering closely. He’d snap at Kyle for it, except for how his injured knee buckles when he puts weight on it. Kyle latches onto his arm before he can go down, and Javy’s there a moment later, grabbing his other arm to keep him upright.

“Head or knee?” Kyle asks.

“Knee. I think that I stood too fast,” Willy says, shaking off their grips. “I’m fine.”

Neither of them look convinced in the slightest, but they do let go of him. Taking a few cautious steps with no further protests from his knee, Willy raises his eyebrows and gestures in a ‘See?’ manner.

“If you’re sure, I’ll go get started on breakfast,” Kyle says, waiting for Willy’s nod before leaving the room.

“You’re not just pretending so we don’t worry?” Javy asks. His features are a little too tight, and Willy sees worry lingering in his eyes.

“Promise. I’m maybe not ready to play today, but it’s not bad. No DL for sure,” Willy says, dropping into a crouch and coming smoothly back up with less pain than even he’d expected. 

“Careful,” Javy says, but the lines of tension around his eyes have eased. 

“I’d tell you if I wasn’t okay,” Willy says. Javy looks like he’s going to say something, so Willy quickly gives him a kiss before he can. “I would.”

“Brush your teeth,” Javy says, wrinkling his nose. It’s so adorable that Willy can’t resist the urge to lean forward and kiss it, prompting Javy to smack him on the ass in retaliation. “Go!”

“I’m going,” Willy says, rolling his eyes fondly and snagging a clean shirt on his way to the bathroom. “But I’m telling Kyle you don’t love me!”

 

Willy’s not surprised when he’s told that today’s a mandatory off day for him. The trainers are pleased with how he’s doing, but still want him to take it easy for at least a day to be on the safe side. On the bright side, though, Kyle’s not starting today, so Willy can hang out in the dugout with him.

“Of course you’d get injured right before my start,” Lester grumbles at Willy in the locker room after he and Gimenez have gone over their game plan.

“Just trying to keep you from being so dependent on me, old man,” Willy grins, tugging on a jacket over his workout clothes. He’ll get teased endlessly for it, but no matter what anyone says, the wind can make it chilly in Chicago, even in the summers. He’s glad he doesn’t live here in the winter.

Sure enough, La Stella catches him as he’s making his way out of the locker room with Lester’s sputtering protests trailing after him. Tommy smiles and starts to say something, then clearly notices Willy’s jacket and stops.

“You do know that it’s July, right?” he asks with a smirk. “It’s a beautiful sunny day out there, and you’re bundled up like it’s about to snow onto the field.”

“I was bundled up more when that happened,” Willy protests. Judging by Tommy’s expression, though, he’s going to come back to his locker to a collection of scarves and winter hats or something.

“Hey, Willy, you cleared to go play catch?” Kyle asks, thankfully coming over to rescue Willy from whatever snark Tommy was about to unleash.

“Yes,” Willy says immediately, latching onto the out. “Bye Tommy!”

“Try not to freeze out there in the eighty degree weather,” Tommy calls sarcastically after them. Willy doesn’t bother to dignify that with a response.

“What’d the trainer say?” Kyle asks, tone deceptively light. 

“Probably good to go tomorrow, but I’m supposed to take it easy today,” Willy says. “I probably won’t catch a full nine innings for a couple days, though.”

“So I should get you for at least the beginning of my start tomorrow, then,” Kyle says, smiling. “I’ll have to rub it in to Jon.”

“Hey now, don’t be rude to Gimenez, he’s a great catcher too,” Willy says, but he can’t help but smile back at Kyle’s obvious favoritism. It’s honestly a miracle that the rest of the team hasn’t figured out the three of them are dating – or that they haven’t said anything if they have. He feels like if anyone’s realized, it’s Jon, but Jon would never bring it up unless it became an issue in the clubhouse. 

“Yeah, but he’s not you,” Kyle replies, seemingly ending the matter. Willy really wishes he could lean over and kiss him right now. Instead, he brushes his hand against Kyle’s, not quite holding his hand but satisfying his need to touch his boyfriend at least somewhat. It’s a good thing most baseball players are already tactile so nobody will think twice about it.

Out on the field, Javy’s taking grounders with Butter observing nearby, but he pauses to wave hello to Willy and Kyle before ranging effortlessly to his left to snag the next ball and throw it over towards first. 

“He’s so good defensively, it’s fun to watch,” Kyle says offhandedly as they make their way to the outfield, where a number of other pitchers are already playing catch.

“Like your pitching and defense isn’t fun to watch too,” Willy says, taking his glove from Kyle and pounding his fist into it a few times. “Sexiest pickoff in the majors.”

Kyle just laughs, tossing a baseball to Willy and backing away from him. “I don’t know, yours aren’t bad either.”

“Whatever,” Willy dismisses, waving his free hand dismissively. “We going to play catch or what?”

“Impatient much?” Kyle teases, dramatically setting up with his glove to demonstrate that he’s ready. Shaking his head in fond exasperation, Willy backs up another few steps and tosses the ball over. It’s not baseball, not really, but it is catch with his boyfriend while his other boyfriend practices across the field, and that’ll be enough for Willy any day.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a comment or kudos if you enjoyed, and come say hi to me over on my [tumblr](https://snarky-saxophonist.tumblr.com) if you want!


End file.
